


Forget Your Guarded Aches

by the49thname



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 11:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15885426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the49thname/pseuds/the49thname
Summary: When Lavi came across Neah Walker nearly a month after he’d escaped from the Noah alive, it felt a lot like fate. Neah/Lavi, mentions of past!Lavi/Allen.





	Forget Your Guarded Aches

**Author's Note:**

> I never expected to end up so invested in this ship but now it kinda owns my soul. This was originally written in two parts but it made sense to put them together. Enjoy reading!
> 
> **Song the fic was written to:** _Don't Try_ by Everything Everything  
>  **Warnings:** N/A

All his life, Lavi had followed the path that his duty set out for him, watching the world burn around him with ink-stained fingers and an empty heart. He did not question it, he did not doubt it; he simply did whatever was asked of him by the man who raised him, regardless of the consequences.

Years at the Black Order had twisted that purpose, left him conflicted and confused as the path under his feet all but disappeared. It had been hard, to keep casting away his heart. It always came back to him, no matter how many times he stabbed the goddamn thing and left it to rot. He found himself clinging to denial more than actively trying to rectify what he saw as a mistake.

Caring about others was a mistake. Feeling strongly about others was a mistake. Loving others - especially when they were doomed to die, nothing more than ink on paper - was a _mistake_. When he found himself bound to a chair, blood burning in his veins as a Noah’s parasites ate him alive, he told himself the same lie that he had repeated to himself for years; that this future, this path that he’d been set upon since he was a child, was something he was willing to die for.

But powers beyond his control dictated that his life was not to end, not at that moment. When Sheryl Kamelot broke him into pieces and realised Lavi’s master would not comply with his wishes - he didn’t care, he didn’t care, _he didn’t care if he died_ \- something rose within Lavi that he could not hold back, even if he wanted to. His palms split, blood pouring out onto sodden carpet, rising up to form a crystalline figure - a headless angel, without purpose, begging for salvation - and he made his choice.

He would not die for this.

That burning conviction solidified the bond that he would forever share with his weapon, until the day the war ended. Before Tyki Mikk could thrust a hand through his heart - his traitorous, ever-feeling heart - a hammer formed within Lavi’s grip. He knew he could not fight, not even when his newly evolved Innocence destroyed the parasites inside of his blood. He tried desperately to grab Bookman and leave.

But the old man refused to stand, refused to do anything but stare at the carpet beneath his feet, expression conflicted, and words that Lavi wished to forget echoed in his mind.

_If you ever become too close to your Innocence, we will have to leave the Order._

Lavi reached out, desperate, stigmata on each palm, bloodied and burning. Bookman did nothing, said nothing, and gave him a look that he knew meant he had only one choice.  With an agonised cry, Lavi turned away and with a single command he was gone, extending his hammer until broken glass and the whistle of the wind were his only companions.

It had been months since that moment, endless days and weeks since Lavi had been left without a purpose. He knew that the Noah would not kill Bookman - he was too useful, regardless of how easy it was to garner information from him - but the thought that his ageing master would not survive long enough for Lavi to see him again - if Bookman even _wanted_ to see him again - distressed him greatly.

It did not matter that he had not entirely wanted this future for himself, that he had always been bitter and resentful of the duty he had been forced to undertake since he was a child. It did not matter that he was free of the burden of his heart, that what he saw as mistakes were mistakes no longer. It did not matter; he had failed and now he had no reason to carry on.

When Lavi came across Neah Walker, nearly a month after he’d escaped from the Noah alive, it felt a lot like fate.

Lavi refused to believe in such a thing as fate, preferring to think of it as mere coincidence, but when he found himself looking at a young man with white hair and a scarred face, golden eyes staring him down from a darkened corner of an inn, he couldn’t help but consider that this, of all things, could give him the purpose he needed.

Allen was gone. Lavi knew that the moment he got up from his seat. He took one step forward, then two, three and forthwith until he was stood face-to-face with someone who was no longer his friend, no longer the boy he had tried so hard to pretend he did not care about. He pulled up a chair and sat down, wood screeching against wood, and he knew the moment Neah did nothing but smile over at him that it was too late to turn back now.

It had been a month since then, and in that time Lavi had realised rather quickly that he had simply exchanged one burden for another, carrying the banner of the third side instead of the Bookman Clan’s banner of neutrality.

It was difficult, at first, to be around a person that was not Allen, but _looked_ like Allen. Every time Neah turned to him and smiled - usually because he’d made some snide insult about Lavi or someone else - it broke Lavi’s heart to know that he’d never see Allen smile with all the bright overwhelming hope he associated so strongly with him. Every time he watched Neah sleep - which happened often, too burdened by memory to rest - he would count the freckles on Neah’s skin and feel his heart twist in his chest because it felt wrong, somehow, to associate such a powerful feeling with someone else.

But he realised, with more surprise than felt comfortable, that no matter how much he tried to tell himself that this strange, nameless emotion that had taken a hold of him was only because of the memory of _Allen_ , it wasn’t entirely true. There was something about Neah that was… captivating, almost, something that left Lavi feeling like he didn’t know who Neah even was. Lavi knew that Neah was paranoid to the point that he’d never be fully trusted by him, if at all. He knew that he was ruthless, but only because he had to be; he feared betrayal at every turn, and Lavi knew enough about the past to have realised that there was good reason for him to feel like that.

And he knew that Neah had not been entirely honest when he gave his reason for why he asked Lavi to come with him, all those weeks ago.

_The previous apprentice helped me out, so you can do the same, since you have nothing better to do._ There was some truth to that, Lavi knew, but there was something else, some nameless emotion in Neah’s eyes that left Lavi wondering exactly why he was prepared to tolerate his company.

It was this curiosity that kept him from walking away, kept him practically obsessed with finding out what was hidden behind Neah’s mask. The phrase _curiosity killed the cat_ came to mind repeatedly during the weeks that Lavi travelled with Neah, watched over him while he slept, fought alongside him when Akuma inevitably caught up to them; there would be no end to it, not as long as the Millennium Earl still lived. Neah admitted what he intended to do soon after Lavi became his companion, which Lavi had already been aware of from being captured by the Noah. They had spoken of it with fear, with anger, and only an idiot would fail to realise that it was no small thing, to kill someone who counted as your family.

Lavi knew that personal feelings came into it, though he didn’t quite know why; Neah’s past was all but a mystery to him, but he had pieced together enough from his behaviour and that one single conversation between Cross Marian and Allen Walker to have realised that Neah was _afraid_. He was afraid of death, he was afraid of failing in his task once more, he was afraid of trust. And the more Lavi tried to skirt around Neah’s defences, the more he tried to peek under the mask and see what lay beneath, the more he realised that he was altogether too invested in him.

No matter how much he wanted to tell himself that the feeling stirring within his heart - something he had felt before for someone else, wearing the same face but another name - had nothing to do with the present, no matter how much Neah’s petty insults and difficult mannerisms and annoying playfulness drove him up the wall, he was also in too deep.

He had been driven off of his chosen path by a guiding light, pulled away into the unknown, and now a man with golden eyes and an identity wrapped in mystery had pulled him even further still into the wilderness, until he had not a single clue where he was going, what he was doing, who he even was.

* * *

Three months into Lavi’s time with Neah, and the height of summer descended upon the both of them with all the ferocity it could possibly muster.

Neah had been fruitlessly searching for any signs of Cross Marian since he had properly awoken. He had spent nearly six months following any possible signs of Cross’s presence and came up with practically nothing. He knew that Cross had been travelling further and further east, but with the entirety of Eastern Europe and Russia spanning out in front of him, it was impossible to know where exactly Cross was hiding himself.

In the near-three months that Lavi had spent with him, they had made even less progress.

Without Timcanpy, the both of them were left chasing after Cross’s debts. Lavi felt continuously horrified - and slightly impressed - by the sheer amount of money the man spent on women and alcohol, and Neah was becoming more and more frustrated with each day that passed them by with no clear answer in sight. It was commonplace for the two of them to argue, but it had always been in a semi-playful way, at least from Lavi’s perspective. As the heat worsened and the chance of finding Cross dissipated into nothingness, the arguments swiftly became difficult to handle.

Lavi didn’t blame Neah for feeling frustrated, even angry; he would be too, if he had been forced to chase after a man with about as much presence as a ghost. But that was the point - he _was_ being forced to chase after Cross, whether he wanted to do so or not. But Neah pointed out, much to Lavi’s discomfort - and slight alarm - that there wasn’t any actual reason for Lavi to stay. He could leave, if he wanted to.

When Neah’s statement was met with silence, it became rather clear that Lavi didn’t want to leave.

That argument changed something between them, left a tension in its wake that was viscerally felt with each and every day that passed them by. Where there had previously been a wall keeping Lavi out, there was now a defence so pathetically put in place that it was almost laughable. It became clear that Neah had finally found a way to trust him, because the knowledge that Lavi was there for no other reason but that he had nowhere else to be was a comfort to him.

There was also something else, something that Neah seemed to be gradually picking up on, and it only added to the tension that was keeping a hold of them. Subtle gestures - lingering fingertips on shoulders, leaning in too close when speaking to one another - were making Lavi feel more and more confused about what exactly was transpiring between them. The reminder of Allen was fading - though it filled him with an immense amount of guilt to acknowledge it - and he knew that it was far too late to brush this off as the lingering remains of his feelings for a person that no longer existed.

It was bittersweet, knowing that he had gained something from what he had lost. It was also terrifying - and slightly ironic - that he’d fallen for someone who was just as likely to die, just as likely to cast aside his life regardless of everything else. All in all it was pretty laughable that he, of all people, had fallen for _the Fourteenth_. But the two of them were similar in ways that Lavi wanted to disregard; they held the same distrust towards others, the same cynicism that was far more of a curse than a blessing, the same bitter disregard towards what was asked of them. The differences were what kept Lavi forever wondering, forever curious about what was hidden behind Neah’s mask.

He wanted to laugh it off, more than he’d ever wanted anything, but with each day that passed, with each day that he found out more about who Neah really was, he was falling faster.

And so in the heat of summer, when the weather was _unbearably_ hot and the amount of progress either of them made practically disintegrated as they spent most of their time desperately clinging to whatever shade they could find, Lavi was forced to face everything he had been trying so hard to ignore.

The day started out normally enough. Lavi kept watch in the early hours of the morning, tried to ignore the gentle expression on Neah’s face while he slept, and when dawn struck, the two of them set off. A few stray Level Ones came to bother them and were swiftly destroyed around noon, and when the heat began to get to them they remained in the shade as often as they could. After they found a stream - a rarity these days, since many of them had dried up a month beforehand - they followed it, eager for water to ease their thirst and to cool them down. A few miles down the line they found a small pool of water, cut off from the outside world by a thick border of trees, left open to the sky by a halo of leaves, the sun casting dappled emerald light upon the water.

Without even thinking twice, Lavi sat himself down and took off his boots with a grimace, quickly flinging them aside. He raised his hands to remove his shirt and looked up to find Neah staring at him with a weird expression. Insides twisting a little - in a way that wasn’t entirely displeasing - Lavi tried his best to look apathetic.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

Neah blinked a few times before shaking his head, quickly trying to regain a sense of composure. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just slightly confused about what you’re doing.”

Lavi snorted with laughter. “I don’t know about you but it’s way too hot to be wearin’ clothes and not jumpin’ into this pool of cold water, don’tcha think?”

Ignoring his companion, he removed his shirt and sighed, relishing the immediate temperature drop as the cool air hit his skin. He started removing his trousers before Neah waved his hands and turned away, clearly embarrassed from his tone of voice.

“Junior, no offense, but what the fuck are you doing?”

Lavi pulled a face, cheeks reddening. “I should ask ya the same question! Stop making this weird!”

Neah abruptly turned, cheeks just as red as Lavi’s own. “ _You’re the one making this weird_!”

“How am I making this weird?” When Neah refused to answer, Lavi shook his head, kicking off his trousers and flipping Neah off as he walked closer to the water’s edge. “If you’re that weirded out, go sit and stare at a tree or somethin’.”

Neah attempted to answer, stumbling over his words, and Lavi was almost glad Neah couldn’t see the huge grin on his face. He swiftly forgot all about Neah - and much of anything else - as cold water lapped around his ankles. Compared to the unbearable heat of the past few weeks, it was _bliss_. Lavi kept walking forward, unable to bite back a yelp as the cold water unexpectedly rose all the way to his neck. After he got used to the temperature change, he took a deep breath and sank down into the depths.

All noise swiftly disappeared. The cold embrace of the pool’s waters was comforting beyond belief after days of sweating into his clothes. Lavi swam back to the surface, breathing in with a gasp, and  pushed his wet hair out of his face. He noticed Neah was stood, attempting to pull off his boots, semi-undressed.

_Oh_ , was the only thought in Lavi’s mind as he found himself staring, gaze trailing down from the emerald tint to Neah’s hair, to the thick scar that stretched from Neah’s right shoulder all the way down to his navel.

“Something wrong?”

Lavi realised he was staring and immediately flushed, lowering himself into the water with an embarrassed expression. He shook his head, and tried to ignore the smile on Neah’s features and his heart jackhammering against his rib cage. When Neah finally pushed himself into the water, biting back a surprised noise at the sudden cold feeling around his legs, he made the same mistake that Lavi did and abruptly went underwater as the ground suddenly dropped a few feet. Lavi couldn’t help but laugh as Neah came up to the surface, spluttering with his hair obscuring his face, and laughed all the harder when he was met with a furious - and embarrassed - expression.

“What’re you laughing at?” Lavi was still laughing and Neah was practically _seething_. “I’m warning you, Junior, if you don’t shut the fuck up I’m going to -”

“Do what, Mr. Shortass?” Lavi wheezed, wiping away tears, unable to stop grinning. “Whenever you try and threaten me, I’m gonna remember this moment.”

Neah glared, faltering for a moment before he sent a wave of water crashing over Lavi’s head with a flick of his hand and a grin. After Lavi gave a near-perfect rendition of what Neah had just done, spluttering and wiping water out of his eyes, he puffed out his cheeks and pushed himself back a little to kick with his feet, nearly toppling Neah over with a large splash of water. Everything soon descended into a mess of water being sent in all possible directions, both Neah and Lavi struggling to breathe as they tried to irritate the other as much as humanly possible.

They were also both desperately trying to bring back a sense of normality, if such a thing had ever existed between them. Neah gave a triumphant cry after nearly drowning Lavi, and any sense of normality was swiftly broken when Lavi pushed himself forward, raised scarred hands to grasp at either side of Neah’s face, and pressed a kiss against his lips.

Silence, so full of tension you could almost taste it. Lavi pulled away, breathing hard, mind catching up with what he’d just done. Neah stared, and _stared_ , and continued staring until Lavi abruptly realised what he’d done.

“What.”

Lavi pushed himself back, alarm showing in his face. “Ah, I was just -”

“ _What_.”

Neah was completely and utterly stunned, and it did nothing to ease the twisting writhing thing inside of Lavi’s insides. He waved his hands in front of him, desperately trying to rectify what he’d done.

“I-I was just tryin’ to shut you up! It doesn’t, it doesn’t mean -”

Neah pushed himself forward, an emotion showing in his eyes that Lavi couldn’t place. Lavi tried to put as much distance between them as possible until his back met rock, ground beneath his feet  and water lapping about his midriff as he found himself trapped between a rock and a hard place, quite literally. He turned and saw the outcrop of stone that he was pushed up against, and desperately turned back to Neah only to find himself grabbed by the shoulders and pulled down for a kiss.

It took him far too long to realise what had happened, eye fluttering closed as he raised his hands to cup Neah’s face, lost in the moment. The image of a boy with a bright smile, and a desperate yearning feeling that he had so desperately tried to ignore, brought reality crashing down hard on Lavi’s shoulders. He pulled away, looking down to see golden eyes and an emotion in them so intense it was _overwhelming_. He let out a shaky breath, still holding Neah’s face in his hands, making no attempts to push him away.

There, the reality that the both of them had tried so hard to ignore; Lavi had always wanted to stay because he had lost himself the moment golden eyes met his own, and Neah had never wanted him to leave because he had been _lonely_ , lonely and afraid. Lavi was the first person that made him feel _alive_.

Lavi needed purpose, Neah needed support. They had sought each other out without knowing, needing the comfort that only a shared lost soul could bring. Lavi knew that he would never be able to tell how much of his feelings for Neah were remnants of what he felt for Allen, or how much of his feelings were a desperate attempt to rid himself of the regret that he had never told Allen a single thing. But he also knew that Neah was _right there_ , right in front of him, a person within his own right with his own identity and his own past - regardless of the person who used to be there instead - and that Lavi was standing there, forehead pressed against Neah’s own, because he _wanted_ to be.

Emotions were messy and complicated and something he would never understand, but Lavi knew at that moment, with Neah’s fingers buried in his hair and lips pressed against his own, that he did not need to understand it for it to be real.


End file.
